Boldy James, Futurewave - Jam Master J lyrics

Talk to me, I talk back ayy, talk to me nice
Let’s talk about it

I got that fire water
Nigga want that smoke? I’m a fire starter
Shining like a beacon
Next weekend I might fly to Florida
Hoping that my plug who got the
Cocaine can supply my order
Seen a couple trinkets up his ears
I should buy my daughter down in GI
Niggas call me Joe but
I’m more Sergeant Slaughter
Dropped my buffs off at Hutch
Had to get my Cartis soldered
My target audience
They thought that I had called it quit's
But that’s rhetorical
Was on Memorial with Walt and Chris
Counting balled up cash with them playmakers
227 fugitive, U of M, Great Lakеr
Way the work wet, double cup
Full of Maybеlline
Plate looking like some shaving cream
On a straight razor
Unky Ben’s skin popping Rs, he a H banger
Auntie got a stent in her
Heart on a pacemaker
Whip a ki into a delicacy, I’m a taste maker
Health hazard on front of my cup
It’s a safe danger watelse

Auntie Debbie want a one-and-one
Pressing up the sketty
Mixing fetty with the bubbleyum
Trying to double up
Uncle Eddie want a graham cracker
Trying to spend 100 bucks then
I gotta serve jam after
It’s the king of rock
But they call me the Jam Master
Backseat of the Cullinan
Counting up them band rackers
Shooting jams, moving grams
I’m a yam smacker
It’s Jam Master J, aka the Jam Master

Hurt me to find out that he
Don’t own his damn masters
I don’t hit women but I’m quick
To let my hand slap her still on the one
I am talking ‘bout no Lancaster
Fuck it, let’s shoot it out
See who open up the slam faster
Package man like a Packers fan
I’m a head tapper
Grand champ, Amtrakker, 10: 08 Saran wrapper
Bird flee in with the film flackers
If you touch it barehanded
Just make sure to wash your hands after
For them blue blans
I can get you flew flammed
To all you little stupids
I never been no damn rapper
Big dummy, sell dope, rob, kill, get money
Sip drank, fuck whole Tonys
Let her man cash it
Fully blue Benz cost me forty-two grand
So much money
You can’t even compute it like a scam hacker
In the back of the Bach
Neck a thousand graham crackers
Best believe if I ain’t take her
Down then my mans caught it let’s get it

Auntie Debbie want a one-and-one
Pressing up the sketty
Mixing fetty with the bubbleyum
Trying to double up
Uncle Eddie want a graham cracker
Trying to spend 100 bucks then
I gotta serve jam after
It’s the king of rock
But they call me the Jam Master
Backseat of the Cullinan
Counting up them band rackers
Shooting jams, moving grams
I’m a yam smacker
It’s Jam Master J, aka the Jam Master

It is known that many pimps
Though they like to describe themselves
As gentlemen of leisure in fact
Do work at pushing and dealing in drugs